


I Love the Rain

by the_delusional_fan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Please get secondhand embarrassment with me, Pre-Relationship, Thunderstorms, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_delusional_fan/pseuds/the_delusional_fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi buys party supplies for Sugawara's birthday and she drops them in the mud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mslilian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mslilian/gifts).



> The last time I published a hetero fic was never ago. I can barely write homo-romo or just romo in general so this was a real challenge ~~and I'm not sure if it really came out ok~~. However, Ushiyachi is big beef and cute small and I can't resist it because I am weak. 
> 
> If you want to know more about why I love Ushiyachi, there's [this](http://thepersonperson.tumblr.com/post/148237178011/thoughts-on-ushiyachi-and-ushijima).
> 
> ALSO MSLILIAN I APOLOGIZE I SPACED AND FORGOT YOU HATE OCS. But this one is breif and more like an npc. Frick.
> 
> I hope you can still somewhat enjoy this disaster.

 

Yachi hums to the tune of Pick Me Up bobbing lightly through the aisle as she makes her way to the final ingredient on the list. She pops peppercorn into her basket containing ground pork, spicy bean paste, scallions, tofu—her shopping is complete.

Turning on her heel in time to the beat, Yachi is almost proud of herself for bearing this much weight alone. Though, she’ll save her gloating for when she has successfully made and delivered Sugawara’s birthday meal.

To be extra safe, she saved the recipe for Super Spicy (emphasis on the spicy) Mapo Tofu to her phone and checked over her list of ingredients about ten times before leaving her home, five times after entering the store, and three after gathering the needed items in one bag. As she approaches the checkout counter, she scans over the contents of her bag once more to ensure no mistakes were made.

Much to her relief, the cashier Yachi walks up to is completely alone. It’ll be hard to make a fool of herself and inconvenience others like this.

“You ready to check out?” The cashier’s voice snaps Yachi out of her paranoid routine. Her big gold eyes, open wider than usual, land on the lady manning the checkout who’s fairly tall, neatly in uniform, and _gorgeous_ —too gorgeous for Yachi’s frail heart to handle. Her body was going to melt in her presence if her eyes didn’t first pop out of her skull.

‘Y-yes!” Yachi manages to breathe out with her rising blush. She quickly places her basket full of items on the counter, knocking it over in the process and causing several ingredients fall to the floor.

“My bad!” Yachi drops to her knees before she finishes the apology. She’s fumbling the products back into the basket by the time she’s apologizing for the second time. “I-I’m so sorry about that...”

The cashier waves her hands to reassure Yachi when Yachi she bows far too low for such a simple mistake. “Don’t worry about it!” She sighs, puts on her best smile, and quickly scans the groceries while the small girl in front of her trembles. “Have a nice day.”

Bowing again, Yachi mutters several ‘thank you’s before leaving in a hurry, thoroughly humiliated and wondering if the cashier was going to have a laugh with her next customer about her failure.

Yachi furiously shakes her head. She had promised herself not to give in to these intrusive thoughts. She had been completely wrong about these kinds of assumptions in the past.  After all, that lady was kind to her despite her mistakes. She’s probably too nice to do such a thing.

Yachi continues to reason with herself as she walks out the door and heads down the train station eventually calming herself down by humming to a tune once more, her groceries clanging together as a convenient beat. Between measures she ganders as the scenery around her with a skip in her step, fascinated by the odd lighting brought about by the expanse of dark clouds above her. Her pace slows as she stares up at them. It’s ominous, she thinks, how the swells hang over the land like an omen—an indicator or heavy rain and a reminder that she needs to be home very, _very_ soon.

Her groceries rattle in a mild wind that rushes by, the beat they provided lost along with the accompanying tune, as Yachi continues to study her surroundings. The buildings and trees around her seem to stretch towards her in the faux twilight, as if trying to encase her in a tomb. Her chest tightens with her growing claustrophobia, urging her down sidewalk.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Yachi shrieks as its volume surges convinced the land is threatening to swallow her whole, and her hasty stride becomes a sprint. Humidity makes breathing hard and she’s already hunched over and panting as rain begins to fall. At this point, she realizes that she’s lost, but that doesn’t matter anymore now that the rain is coming down in what feels like waterfalls. She has to find shelter above all other things.

Yachi lets out a mangled whimper in her meager dash at an attempt for safety. The storm is hard to see through and she loses her footing in a slick patch of grass. Everything falls in slow motion— the rain, her ingredients, her body. As time lags, Yachi can picture the disappointed faces of her teammates and mother. She watches as the most important part of the party, the meal that serves as both a gift for celebration and a staple of team bonding, a communion, hit the muddy ground in pieces with a moist splat. Her plans for Sugawara’s party are ruined. They’ll never forgive her for this. Yachi doesn’t bother to pick herself up from the ground, instead she cries, scared and frustrated by the havoc she’s in now.

“Hey!” A voice cuts through her devastation.

“Hey do you need he—”

Yachi looks up in time to watch a rather large body gracelessly fall and then slide through the mud with a sound _slosh_.

“Are you alright?!” she shouts over the storm.

“I am,” the man responds, lifting his head to reveal a strong jaw and stern gaze that’s made less intimidating by the splotch of sludge on his face. Despite that blemish, Yachi is instantly able to recognize him.

“Japan!”

Japan, also known as Ushijima Wakatoshi, rises to his feet and cautiously walks over to the small blonde who is still lying on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he returns.

Yachi wastes no time jumping up into a bow. “I’m Yachi Hitoka and I’m trying to get home I live near Karasuno High please could you help me mister Ushiwaka Japan sir!”

“That’s far from here.” Ushijima observes.

“I know...” Yachi’s heart sinks. Who on earth would guide her in this storm only to have to traverse back on their own anyways?

“My home is much closer. Would you like to take shelter there?” Ushijima offers with a slight tilt of his head.

Yachi perks up at the suggestion, which had taken her by surprise—the famous Ushijima Wakatoshi of all people was willing to take a complete stranger into his home. Though it shouldn’t be so surprising since she remembers him giving Kageyama and Hinata a tour of his school no questions asked when they first encountered him. But then again he knew who they were and he probably doesn't remember her at all given that she was a mere speck compared to those two balls of concentrated energy. All considered, this was still something she didn’t want to pass up.

“S-sure!”

Ushijima nods and then points to the ground. “Are these yours?”

Yachi  follows his finger, somewhat confused, until she sees and then remembers what she was crying over in the first place. Mentally smacking herself for having almost forgotten such an important detail, she replies with a pained ‘Yes’.

“Would you like help picking those up?” Ushijima asks like he’s trying help an old lady get something off the high shelf in the middle of a store and not indistinguishable objects  in the center of a typhoon.

There’s another peal of thunder, but Yachi is too floored by his both his calmness and politeness to react. It takes her a moment before she can bark “Yes please!” back at him. Ushijima was truly as generous as she initially thought he was.

Ushijima wastes no time dropping to his knees to pick up the soiled food items. Yachi just retrieves and holds out her basket to the burnet as his massive hands pick up everything in a few scoops.

“Let’s go now.” Ushijima turns on his heels beings to walk down a foreign path.

Yachi can hardly keep up with his strides with the additional baggage in her hands (although she doubts it would any easier to match his pace without it). “Don’t leave me!” she cries out when she falls over a dozen steps behind him.

Ushijima halts and then turns to wait for the tiny girl to catch up. He can’t help but notice how poor her stamina is as she practically limps over to him. Thankfully, he has a solution to this.

“I’ll carry you.”

It’s an assertion, not a question, and he has Yachi in his arms before she can even catch her breath let alone protest. This throws her in for a loop once again since he’d been so keen on getting permission earlier. Still, she doesn’t resist him since he _is_ her only way out of this mess right now. She merely squeaks and clutches her basket full of muddied food close as Ushijima breaks out into a fast jog.

* * *

 

Yachi keeps her eyes shut for the entirety of their run. She keeps them closed even when Ushijima sets her down and ushers her into his home. When she finally decides to, Ushijima is nowhere to be seen.

The home is quite spacious, traditional she notes, as she becomes extra wary of the water damage she might be inflicting on the floor. Her mother was already so strict with her. She couldn’t imagine what a clearly prominent family like this would do if she ruined something of theirs. A shiver runs down her spine at the thought.

“Ushiwa—er, Ushijima-san?” Yachi calls out into the halls.

“Yes?” Ushijima’s voice echos back.

“Where are you?” Yachi leans forward cautiously but curiously.

“I am about to change in my bedroom please wait,” he answers.

“Ok.” Yachi clutches her own arms and notices that her hands are numb to the point where they barely register the goosebumps on her arms. Shivering again, this time from the cold, she rubs her arms up and down to generate some warmth. Much to her dismay, the claminess of her hands negates any heat she produces. Yachi then tries to focus on other things than her cold hands, but instead she finds herself hyper aware of how of all this wetness is freezing her to the bone. This must be her punishment for screwing up so badly.

As Yachi wishes for Ushijima’s swift return, he emerges from the hall in a grey shirt a little too small for his torso and black basketball shorts with a large towel in hand. “Hello.”

“H-h-hello,” Yachi stutters back through her chattering teeth.

Ushijima holds out the towel with both hands. “For you.”

“Thanks.” Yachi wraps the towel around her without hesitation, relieved by how warm, soft, and dry it is. Enticed by its quality, Yachi brings the cloth to her cheek and nuzzles against it.

“You seem to already know my name,” Ushijima notices.

Yachi supposes it's rather odd to know the name of someone she hasn’t formally met. “Haha well you’re pretty famous…”

She crosses her fingers  and prays that made her seem like less of a creep, but Ushijima continues to stare at her without so much as a twitch in his expression. Maybe she really had caused him a great deal of discomfort.

“I wish I had something to change into,” Yachi laughs nervously in hopes of pulling his attention away from her blunder.

“Perhaps clothing from my mother’s wardrobe would fit you?” Ushijima suggests immediately and so nonchalantly that it startles Yachi.

“I can’t! Is she even here? I’d be intruding too much.”

“No she is not here, but If you stay like this you’ll fall ill.” His brows furrow slightly with concern, but to Yachi it comes across as something sterner and she bows her head apologetically.

“I know,” she says weakly.

The crease between Ushijima’s brows deepens and he falls silent again. A pit forms in Yachi’s stomach at the sight of his more solemn expression and she twiddles her thumbs with the feeling that she’s being too nitpicky for all this hospitality.

“You could borrow a smaller shirt of mine—It would be worn like a dress on you,” Ushijima speaks up again. “Unfortunately I do not think my undergarments will fit you.”

Scarlet rises to her cheeks at the mention of underwear and the inadvertent offer of sharing said underwear. However, she doesn’t have an excuse to refuse the shirt. “Oh that would be fine I guess.”

Ushijima acknowledges her acceptance with a small nod and he extends his suggestion. “You can use a hairdryer on your own undergarments since I assume you do not want to remain damp or be without them entirely.”

He’s too honest for his own good Yachi thinks while her face reaches levels of red she never thought possible—the heat radiating from her face was almost enough to block out the cold. If it were anyone else, she would’ve thought they were a massive pervert. “I think this towel will do just fine.”

At least the rain had washed away every trace of mud on her and the food. Bathing and changing all articles of clothing wasn’t made mandatory that way, saving her some embarrassment.

“I see. I’ll retrieve just the shirt for you.” Ushijima turns to go back down the hall he came from.

“Thank you,” Yachi sighs in relief this conversation isn’t going any further. In all honesty, she’s still off-put by how blunt Ushijima was about all this, but she is a bit impressed that he has managed to keep such a straight face during it. He also didn’t bring attention to her blush which she is immensely grateful for.

Ushijima looks over his shoulder. “Please follow me, the bathroom is over this way too.”

Curling the towel tightly around her, Yachi follows ever so eager to shed what’s become literal water weight and to have a moment of privacy. Ushijima has her wait at the bathroom door and is quick to obtain and hand her a shirt that’s a pretty shade of taupe. When she clicks the lock in place and she’s certain she’s alone, Yachi softly screams into the towel.

* * *

 

His shirt is too big for her even as a makeshift dress—the sleeves go beyond her elbows, the hem is to her knees, and the collar exposes most of her shoulder. Yachi feels a tad scandalous to say the least when she inspects herself in the mirror.

 “Ushijima-san?” she calls out meekly down the hall after slowly easing the door open.

 There’s no response so she takes a few cautionary steps out before calling again. More silence. Yachi sighs and brushes the damp bangs out of her face, turning around to pick up her cell phone from the bathroom counter. She tries to turn it on for the umpnenth time, hoping by some miracle the water damage was now undone, but it remains even more dead than she is.  Setting it down once more Yachi quietly leaves the room and searches for Ushijima.

 Yachi’s luck finally begins to change when she finds Ushijima after getting lost only two times in the halls. She’s really happy to see him, but her rush of relief is cut short by an earsplitting thundercrack.  

“Ushi—EEK!”

Startled by the sudden shriek, Ushijima jumps back rams into the counter behind him, and almost knocks several utensils to the ground. Yachi clamps her hands over her mouth, shocked by her lack of restraint and ready to apologize through her fingers, but Ushijima beats her to it first. “Do not be alarmed. I’m only trying to salvage what hasn’t been damaged by rainwater.”

Yachi lowers her hands and looks to the sparkly clean scallions in his hands.  “It’s alright I’m just a bit jumpy from the thunder that’s all. Sorry for the scream.”

“Yachi,” Ushijima says firmly, waiting until their eyes meet before continuing, “What exactly are these for?” He waves the vegetables in his hand towards the partially cleaned basket.

Yachi finds herself taken off guard yet again by Ushijima’s questions before responding, her voice a tad bit shaky from being put on the spot. “Well you see I was trying to make Mapo Tofu for my senpai’s birthday party later this evening. It’s his favorite dish and the main course. I totally blew it.”

Ushijima dislikes her sombre expression greatly. After saving her from the storm he wants to see her mood improve and not worsen, otherwise he’ll have failed as a host. “If you show me the recipe there’s a possibility of it still being made.”

Yachi’s eyes open wide. If this was an option, she would truly be saved. “I don’t have all the ingredients though.”

Ushijima is determined to make things better. “You can use some of the ones here. I am sure my mother won’t mind.”

“Really?” she asks just to make sure she’s hearing his words right. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” he assures her. “Plus it is a productive way to pass time until the storm clears.”

Yachi pauses for a moment to process everything before being overcome with gratitude and suddenly smiling brightly for the first time since this mess began. “Thank you Ushijima-san!”

While she beams right at her savior, she sees what she believes is a faint blush. Feeling bolder than usual decides to actually ask a favor of him.

“And one more thing,” she says her smile becoming shyer, “Can I use your phone to call my mother? She’s probably worried sick.”

“Of course,” Ushijima responds, but this time his gaze is fixed on her forehead instead of her eyes. He removes his phone his pants pocket, unlocks it  and places it in Yachi’s open palms. He has his eyes trained on her hands which he can’t help but notice how dainty and tiny they are. _And cute_ an unnecessary voice in his head adds.  

Yachi swiftly bows  and exits the kitchen to make the call with little skip in her step. That same voice tells Ushijima she looks especially cute in his clothes.

* * *

 

The number is punched in the keypad the moment Yachi is around the corner. She’s trembling slightly, listening to the dial tone, ringing, the click, and then—

_“Who is this?”_

Yachi takes a deep breath and prepares for what’s coming. “Mother it’s—”

_“Hitoka?! Where are you? Why aren’t you calling from—”_

And Yachi plugs one ear as her mother bombards her with question after question, scolding and expressing relief in between, her voice so loud Yachi’s sure Ushijima can hear it in the other room. But after many apologies, reassurances, and a few promises, Yachi is able to calm her down and return to the kitchen.

Yachi approaches Ushijima who looks down at her expectantly as she fiddles with the phone in her hand. “So my mother will come pick me up after the storm passes. I just need to text her the address.”

He nods and recites the address mechanically, twice, so Yachi can immediately send it. She always knew memorizing the actual contact numbers would come in handy one day.

“Should I pull up the recipe on your phone?” Yachi asks when she finishes.

Ushijima nods again and turns to focus on cleaning and drying the food once again.

She exits out of the messages and opens up google. When the app loads she is instead met with  a picture of Ushijima and a freaky looking red haired boy.  Yachi knows she hit the wrong app, but curiosity gets the better of her and she studies the picture.

The composition is nice for a selfie she notes—the lighting is soft, the image is sharp, and the colors complement each other quite well too. But the most remarkable part of the image is Ushijima’s expression. He’s smiling with who she assumes is his friend as they sport matching shirts and lean close enough to touch cheeks.

Even when Yachi first met him, Ushijima had worn the same expression as he did when he rescued her and as he still does now. If not for his actions and kind words, she’d believe he were a cyborg of sorts. To see him smile like this made him more human and approachable. And that was Yachi’s favorite part about this picture, the emotions it evoked from her—the warm glow of the image made her just as giddy as the pair in that moment.

“Yachi.”

Ushijima’s voice causes Yachi to jump as she knew full well she’d been caught red handed.

“I apologize for not being upfront about his, but do I know you from somewhere? Your face is familiar.”

Yachi lets out a heavy sigh and opens up the correct app before answering. “Yes we briefly saw each other on the intersection. I was with Kageyama and Hinata.”

“Ah the freak quick duo. I do remember.” He looks up to no spot in particular and recalls their encounter. The small one called Hinata wound up being a lot more irritating than he expected.

“I’m surprised you remembered me. I was hardly there. That’s a bit flattering actually...”

A faint pink rises to Yachi’s cheeks and she sheepishly smiles, causing that annoying voice from earlier to put distracting thoughts in Ushijima’s head. He curbs his own blush since he must remain composed in the presence of his guest.

“Observations are key to prevailing in volleyball. If you cannot analyze your surroundings in a short amount of time your plays will ultimately fail,” Ushijima spurts out, convinced it’s the most logical  reason he did remember her.

“Oh!”

Yachi’s smile disappears as she takes this information a little more seriously than Ushijima expected, but her eyes remain bright and that causes some stirring in Ushijima’s gut. But that’s still a much better alternative to her smile—Ushijima doesn’t think he can handle exposure to something like that for too long.

“The recipe,” Ushijima blurts out, a poor segway to avoid something he can’t quite put his tongue on.

“It’s right here,” Yachi chirps, not seeming to mind the abrupt change in subject to Ushijima’s relief.

“Let’s begin,” he commands as his dignity somewhat restored.

“Of course!”

Yachi grins up at Ushijima who immediately turns away to grab a cutting board in an attempt to mask his embarrassment.

 

Yachi convinces Ushijima to let her cut the scallions. He was worried she might cut her tiny frail hands, but Yachi insists their size allows her to get a better cut. Satisfied with her confidence, Ushijima then busies himself with gathering the remaining ingredients from cupboards. When he reaches off the high self he realizes he hasn’t cooked with anyone some time, the last vivid memory being with his father. He’s always had his meals prepared for him whether it was by his family, cafeteria, or managers at a volleyball camp. He hadn’t the slightest clue where to begin aside from gathering and cleaning the ingredients.

“I am not very familiar with cooking,” he confesses. “Please guide me.”

“Of course!” Yachi is more chipper than ever as she’s been given the opportunity to return the favor.

 

Halfway into their cooking session, eyes watering from the scallion and guilt, Yachi winds up confessing to her crime, an invasion of privacy, for viewing the picture of Ushijima and his friend, which she learns is actually best friend that likes manga and comes over at odd hours to watch horror movies with him. Ushijima tells her how often this friend would barge in unannounced for horror marathons and how odd he thought that Tendou found comfort in him when he was just as frightened. Yachi laughs at this, understanding exactly why Tendou does that, and she thinks maybe she too could watch horror if it were with him.

Their discussion evolves into types of movies they enjoy. Yachi doesn’t go much past chick-flicks and romcoms since her heart can’t handle much else, Ushijima watches a lot of American films that his father sends him from overseas. After listening to describe one of his favorites, An American Tale, she expresses that she has wanted to expand her tastes for some time. It sucked not being brave enough to do so. And to her explanation he invites her to watch some of the foreign films with him and maybe Tenou of course. It sounds like a confession quickly revised into something more platonic and Yachi’s cheeks heat up. Though he doesn’t blush she can tell Ushijima just as embarrassed by the sudden stiffness in his posture.

Yet again their conversation shifts, this time from films to volleyball. Ushijima is shocked he’s managed to stray from the topic of volleyball so long. Usually it’s only Tendou who can pull this off, not someone he’s just getting to know. (Then again he’s never been so affected by someone’s smile either.) Yachi asks for advice and Ushijima gives it to her without hesitation since with or without it, he doesn’t see his team losing to Karasuno in the future.

Soon after they’ve created a massive pot full of mapo tofu that Yachi can barely carry in both of her arms  or even smell for that matter as its spiciness if off the charts. Sugawara will be very pleased. The storm outside has also passed by the time Ushijima has learned how to stir-fry pork, poach tofu, and make one type of sauce.

A faint buzz sounds and Ushijima immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. He’s already answered the call and said hello before Yachi could ask who it was. That doesn’t matter though—the second the greeting leaves his mouth, Yachi can hear her mother interrogating the poor boy and she begins to prep an apology speech on the spot.

Ushijima replies to her barrage with a series of ‘yes’s and ‘of course’s before ending with a ‘she is fine’ and handing the phone over to Yachi who is frantically mouthing something unintelligible.

“Hey mom—”

_“You are ok right? He hasn’t done anything to you?”_

“Yes I’m fine the only thing he’s done is help me, especially with that meal I needed to cook for tonight.”

_“You’re still going to that party after all this?”_

“Yes we finished it!”

“Well _you’re so lucky this boy is such a gentleman. You could’ve never gone to this thing and I could have never seen you again.”_

 _“_ I know… But everything worked out didn’t it?”

_“I guess so. I’ll be there in 20 minutes ok? Just a little longer.”_

* * *

 

Ushijima and Yachi spend the rest of their time together cleaning up the kitchen and neatly gathering up Yachi’s things. They don’t talk as much, but the silence is comfortable. When they finish the two lounge in the kitchen sharing some sport drinks since there wasn’t enough time for Yachi to make tea.

Ushijima’s phone buzzes just as he’s starting to relax. It’s a text demanding that he would release Yachi from his lavish abode.

 “Yachi your mother is here,” Ushijima informs her, a bit upset that he didn’t have more time to spend with her. It was nice having company like this once in a while.

 Yachi appears to feel similarly as she smiles sympathetically. “Oh I see. I guess this is goodbye for now then.”

 Ushijima nods slowly and then stands to go pick up the pot of mapo tofu, but Yachi stops him as he begins his walk towards it by grabbing the hem of his shirt. Ushijima looks down at her, perplexed.

 Yachi releases her hold and inhales. This shouldn’t be making her heart race since it’s a perfectly normal thing to ask. She knows it’s on her mother’s phone, so she really doesn’t have to, but it’s always best to ask first. Ushijima has taught her that well.

 “If it’s not any trouble could you give me your number? I want to make sure your shirt and pot are returned and since my phone is ruined...”

 “That’s not a problem.” Ushijima moves to open up a drawer instead, pull out a sticky note and pen before jotting down his number in some of the worst handwriting Yachi has ever seen. It’s poor quality is much like Kageyama’s, Yachi thinks. They might get along quite well since all their talent has been exclusively put into volleyball. She snorts at the thought of those two interacting in a more social setting to which Ushijima raises an eyebrow.

Quickly curbing her laugh, Yachi grins up at the brunet. “Again thank you so much. I hope to see you again soon after this.”

 “Me too.” Ushijima hands her the paper.

 It’s faint, but Yachi can see the beginnings of the smile she fawned over earlier.

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 **_Unknown:_ ** _(* ´_ _▽_ _` )_ _ﾉ_ _Hello it’s Yachi here texting from my friend’s phone~_

 **_Yachi:_ ** _The meal was a huge hit thanks to you!  I’m forever indebted to you._

 **_Yachi:_ ** _I’ll contact you again as soon as I get a replacement phone._

 **_Yachi:_ ** _And though I’ve said it so many times now—Thank you so much! \_ _(* °_ _ヮ_ _°  )/_

 **_Yachi:_ ** _°˖_ _✧◝_ _(*_ _⁰_ _▿⁰_ _)_ _◜✧_ _˖°_ _[attached image]_ _°˖_ _✧◝_ _(*_ _⁰_ _▿⁰_ _)_ _◜✧_ _˖°_

 

It’s a picture of what Ushijima assumes is the party Yachi was so determined to cater for. It’s a selfie featuring Yachi alongside that irksome redhead beaming in the corner. The meal she made is the centerpiece, which is surrounded by many other dishes and people with hearty smiles drawn across their faces. Ushijima can almost feel the warmth of the atmosphere leaking through his phone Glad to have contributed to the happiness in the scene before him, Ushijima hopes to make Yachi just as happy again in the future. He doesn’t notice it, but he’s smiling too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you found the hidden bisexual propaganda.


End file.
